Spanish Wines from Telmo Rodriguez

When I was young, growing up in the frozen wilds of Winnipeg, most of my friends collected hockey cards. I’m sure that other kids in warmer climes collected baseball cards, but we chased after the cards of our ice-skating heroes. And different cards had status. No-name players weren’t cool. Nobody wanted a Brian Hayward or Ed Hospodar card, because nobody knew who they were. We all wanted a Wayne Gretzky or Dale Hawerchuk card instead.

Now, it’s all about the wine. And I’m much less discriminating than I used to be. But to put it all in context, I imagine that if someone made collector’s cards of wine or winemakers, today’s coolest kids would want a Telmo Rodriguez wine card.

I’ll let the linked article explain who he is. My connection is that I’ve been fortunate enough to try three of his amazing Spanish wines. Vina 105, Al Muvedre and Basa. All of these are available at DeLuca’s Fine Wines on Portage Avenue, which is the nearest wine store to my home. It’s been a while since I’ve had the Vina 105, so I’ll focus on the Basa and Al Muvedre today.

Basa is from the Rueda region of north-western Spain (Castile for the geographers among us). It’s made primarily from the indigenous Verdejo grape, with Sauvignon Blanc and Viura for additional character. Only 15,000 cases are made, so it might not be the easiest to track down. And just check out that nifty label!

In the glass, it shows off a dusty herbal smell, with a surprising (almost salty) crispness. Think of it as a sea breeze wafting over a dry hillside. In the glass, it’s all about citrus and herbs. Not in a Sauvignon Blanc kind of way, but different. There’s more richness there, and the citrus is more over-ripe orange than zesty lemon. The herbs are softer, but there’s still a backbone of crispness in the wine. As cliched as it sounds, this is a very sexy wine.

Basa is perfect served up nice and cold with some fresh BC halibut covered in persillade. Available (chilled) for only $12.99 at DeLuca’s, which seems to be the only place in Winnipeg where you’ll find the wines of Telmo Rodriguez. Correct me if I’m wrong.

Al Muvedre (from Alicante) is an oddity, a wine made entirely from Monastrell (Mourvedre), which you don’t often (ever?) find. It’s not a big beastly wine, but shows to be rather tame and well-mannered. And it is a delicious summertime wine.

The nose shows the dustiness that I associate with Spanish wines, along with some light red cherry aromas. And there is a hint of herbs, which I’m coming to associate with Telmo Rodriguez’ wines. In the mouth, I found it showed off more fruit than I expected, mostly cherries with some muted plums, all wrapped around a core of herbal flavours with nice soft tannins. If anything, Al Muvedre tastes like a complex, earthy Beaujolais – more fresh cherry than bubble gum. It’s worth the $11.99 it will set you back at DeLuca’s, and I’d suggest serving it slightly chilled on a sunny patio some evening this summer. Great on its own, or served up alongside some fresh local rainbow trout or Arctic char.

Petit Verdot

Today’s grape of choice is Petit Verdot. If you’re a fan of big brutish red wines, you’ll love this one. Originally from the Bordeaux region of France, Petit Verdot is one of the six approved varieties used in the region’s wine. Not often found as a solo performer, but the Australians have been exploring its potential.

My first experience with Petit Verdot came several years ago at Vancouver’s Bin 941 restaurant. I had a glass of the Piramimma Petit Verdot, which blew me over. Once I picked myself up off the floor, I realized I was in love.

The Piramimma Petit Verdot is a huge, muscular red wine with loads of flavour. In the nose, it has an almost floral scent, but you can tell that it is a beast. In the mouth, the tannins can overpower the flavour, but you’ll typically find lots of peppery and earthy notes as well. Your teeth will be black and your head will hurt, but if you like your wines big, there’s nothing better than this one. Try it with a big charred piece of moose, or something equally gamey and huge (no, I’m not kidding).

However, the Piramimma doesn’t come cheap, averaging around $28 at Winnipeg’s private wine stores. So when I came across a new (cheaper) Australian Petit Verdot, I grabbed it right away. It was the Deakin Estate Petit Verdot, which will set you back $16.99 plus taxes at Winnipeg’s private wine stores. I bought it at DeLuca’s.

Sadly, it wasn’t worth the effort. Instead of the big, bruising, head-cramping rush I expected, I got what tasted like an overly- tannic Merlot. Blah.

Maybe the wine wasn’t that bad, but it did give me nasty heartburn. It didn’t have the floral nose I expected from it, nor was there much in the glass beyond lots of tannins. So don’t bother with the Deakin Estate (although their sparkling Shiraz is excellent), but save your bucks and head right for the Piramimma.

Back…

Well, life has finally returned to normal. My extended absence for family reasons became even more extended and more difficult than I had expected. I didn’t have a lot of time to drink wine (…) and I even had to bow out of the Winnipeg Wine Festival last weekend.

But I hope to make up for lost time with lots of posts in the next few weeks. I was lucky enough to try a few great wines in my travels (travails?) and I had some excellent meals too - including a trip to my favourite Indian restaurant in the whole wide spice-loving world.

And I learned to love the LCBO, which may not make me so popular with any wine-blog readers in Ontario. But they do have a good selection. And the fact that taxes are included in the price made my Manitoban heart beat madly. So next time, I’ll post a few of my new discoveries up here.

But I’ll close off with a local wine find. On Sunday, I picked up a bottle of the Lurton Mendoza Pinot Gris (Argentina) at my local MLCC outlet. It set me back a whopping $9.31 before taxes. And it was amazing. Beautiful light floral nose (almost Gewürztraminer-esque), with tonnes of rich, almost oily peach and apricot flavours in the mouth. Nice long finish, and a perfect wine for spring. A total steal, and I’m going back to get more tonight.

I also picked up a box (yes, a box) of the De Bortoli Chardonnay (Australia) in a fit of uncharacteristic cheapness. I’ll be polite and let my silence about this wine speak for itself. Needless to say, I learned my lesson. No more boxed wine for me.